


Eric's Problem

by AbsolutelyNotAlex



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Confessions, Idiots in Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 17:37:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20878091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbsolutelyNotAlex/pseuds/AbsolutelyNotAlex
Summary: George invites Eric to Friar Park for a month, and things ensue.





	Eric's Problem

**Author's Note:**

> So I have to admit, I was a bit skeptical of this ship, as Starrison is one of my OTPs, but after doing some digging, I was actually kind of curious so I wrote this.

Eric had a problem. And his problem’s name was George Harrison. It wasn’t as if George had  _ done  _ anything. Really, it was probably Eric’s fault for being in love with him. But when George asked him to come stay for the month at Friar Park, he couldn’t just say  _ no.  _ Pattie was away on a trip with her girlfriends, and while Eric knew George didn’t mind the solitude, he found himself accepting the invitation. It was only the day before he was supposed to leave for George’s that he realized how big of a mistake he’d made.  _ A whole month.  _ He was bound to slip up and say something embarrassing, and George would hate him forevermore. 

But seeing as he’d already agreed to go, he packed a bag, grabbed a guitar, and headed off to meet his impending doom. When Eric arrived at the house, George was out in the garden with a shovel. As soon as he saw Eric, he waved and came over and clapped him on the shoulder. 

Once the two were inside the house, Eric finally spoke.

“Thanks for inviting me here.”

“Yeah, otherwise I might have too much peace.” George laughed and it took most of Eric’s self-control to keep from swooning. 

He managed to respond with, “yeah, wouldn’t want that.”

They went inside the house, and the rest of the day passed without much excitement until they decided they were going to bed. The house had endless bedrooms, but George asked Eric to sleep in  _ his  _ room, in  _ his  _ bed. But it wasn’t as if he could just say no. So he changed his clothes and climbed into the bed, trying not to think about all the accidental contact they would probably have during the night. Okay, maybe he thought about it a little. 

All was well and uneventful until precisely one-thirty-seven in the morning when Eric woke up. George wasn’t in bed, and Eric figured he’d gone to the loo. Knowing he wasn’t going to get back to sleep, he stood up and decided to go down to the sitting room. As he got closer, he heard an acoustic guitar and George’s voice. When he stepped across the threshold, he saw him, fully clothed, sitting on the sofa with one of his guitars, playing one of the most beautiful songs Eric had ever heard. He sat down opposite him, mesmerized, as George finished the song. 

As the last chord rang out, Eric whispered, “that was amazing.”

George brushed the compliment off. “It’s called Run of the Mill.” He said. 

“Why haven’t you recorded it?”

“I’m going to. You’re the first person I’ve played it to.”

Eric didn’t know how to respond, so in lieu of an answer he asked, “What else have you got?”

George smiled. “Lots.”

He played until the sun started to peek up over the horizon, and then he jumped up and grabbed Eric’s wrist, pulling him outside. 

“Wha-” Eric tried.

“You’ll see.” Said George. They walked through the gardens until he stopped by an oak tree, finally letting go of Eric’s wrist. He grabbed a thick branch with both hands. Eric gave him a look of confusion, but before he could protest George had swung his legs up and was already standing up reaching for another branch. Eric pulled himself up onto a branch and couldn’t help noticing how childlike George looked, face upturned with his lean body outstretched towards another limb. They climbed higher, until George found a branch they could both comfortably sit on. He pointed between the leaves, and Eric saw the sun rising above the treetops. Not for the first time, he was envious of Pattie. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” George asked. 

Eric realized he had been staring out into the distance, and he blinked. “Er- yeah.” 

George gave him a lopsided smile, and he thought he might fall out of the tree. When they climbed out of the tree, Eric’s hands were shaking. Yeah, he would have to do something about that. He was going to have to confess. 

His first attempt came when the two of them were sitting playing guitar. George was showing him a chord, and when Eric couldn’t get it, George reached over and positioned his fingers on the neck. Eric stared at his hand for a moment, thinking that it was the perfect time when George spoke.

“Got it?”

Eric held back a sigh. “Yeah.”

His second attempt came after dinner that night. They were standing by the sink, washing the dishes. All he had to do was say it. 

“George,” He started. 

George looked at him, and his stomach did a flip. 

“Can you pass me that towel?” He cursed himself and went back to drying the dishes. 

The next morning, Eric woke up with George’s ankle crossed over his. Eric sighed, not realizing George was already awake.

George turned his head and sat up. “What?”

“Nothing,” Eric said. Both of them knew it was a lie.

“Look,” George said. “You’ve been acting weird since you got here. Don’t bother to say you haven’t, because I know it’s bullshit.”

“So what do you want?”

“I want you to tell me what’s the matter.”

He sat up and leaned against the headboard. There it was. His shot. He could confess to George. Eric looked shakily over at him and swallowed once. Twice. 

“If I tell you, you won’t be able to just forget it.”

George didn’t say anything, because there was nothing to be said that Eric didn’t already know. He took a breath. He’d run through countless ways to phrase it in his head, but in the end he settled on being simple and direct. 

“I’m in love with you. And I completely understand if you want to kick me out of the house.”

“Why,” George started slowly, “would I want to kick you out of the house?” 

“Why wouldn’t you? I just told you I was bloody in l-” Eric hadn’t noticed that George was moving slowly closer to him until he felt a pair of lips against his own. He froze, but George kept kissing him. When he felt George’s tongue flick against his bottom lip, his brain short-circuited. Ever so gently, George brought his calloused hand up to the side of Eric’s face. When he finally pulled back for air, Eric regained his senses enough to get out, “Pattie.”

“Why do you think I had you over while she was gone?” George asked. Something in his voice made Eric’s toes curl. Before he could say anything, George kissed him again. George bit his lip, and Eric moaned. Finally realizing that this wasn’t a dream, he tangled his fingers in George’s brown hair. It wasn’t until he thought his lungs would burst that he remembered he had to breathe.

When they broke apart, George rested his forehead against Eric’s and breathed, “I love you.” 

It was going to be a fun rest of the month. 


End file.
